


The Last Line of Defense

by fayedartmouth



Category: CHAOS (TV 2011)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 11:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayedartmouth/pseuds/fayedartmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaking is the body’s last defense against the cold.  It’s an autonomic response designed to generate heat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Line of Defense

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Chaos.
> 
> A/N: The typical stuff. Beta by sockie1000. Fits my hug prompt from hc_bingo.

“You’re shaking.”

Billy sniffles, rubbing his hands pointlessly over his arms. “Aye,” he says. “We are in a clapboard shelter amidst the freezing tundra during the snowstorm of the century. What did you expect?”

Casey narrows his eyes. “Shaking is bad.”

“Shaking is a natural reaction to being cold,” Billy says. “And I am, in fact, very, very cold.”

It occurs to Casey, even as he flexes his own nimble fingers, which are tucked securely inside his shirt front and pressed against his chest, that Billy _is_ quite cold. Even colder than he’s letting on. Because he’s not just shaking. He’s chattering a bit, and his face is too pale with his lips tinged faintly blue. They got caught in the storm unexpectedly, and they happened upon this shelter by chance. It wasn’t much, but Casey had counted on it being better than the elements.

But the howling winds are blowing hard through the clapboard walls, and even Casey can’t deny the slow creep of the ice as it seeps into his toes and starts to spread up his calves and thighs.

Still, Casey is well versed in surviving extreme temperatures and he’s trained his body to excel even under these conditions. The cold is a nuisance but it’s not worrisome -- yet.

The fact is, though, that they’re in for a hell of a long night -- and maybe then some. There’s no telling how long the storm will last and the darkness of the night will only bring the temperatures lower.

Casey feels an inexplicable twinge run up his spine.

“See,” Billy says. “You’re shaking, too.”

Casey frowns at him, scowling. “Shaking is the body’s last defense against the cold,” he lectures. “It’s an autonomic response designed to generate heat.”

“As long as it lasts,” Billy points out, sounding almost petulant now. “When that energy is expended...”

His words hang ominously and he cups his hands and blows into them.

Casey sighs. Because he’s stuck in a snowstorm. Because it’s freezing cold and their shelter is woefully inadequate. Because Billy’s cold.

“Come on,” Casey says, moving closer to Billy. Their shelter is nothing more than a shed, and there’s no possibility of building a fire and there’s not much space to move around. Even so, he and Billy have taken up opposite sides, and Casey promptly closes the gap.

Billy looks confused. “What--”

Then Casey unzips his coat.

“Why, Casey--” Billy begins.

Casey ignores him and then reaches out, unzipping Billy’s.

The Scotsman yelps in protest. “I’m flattered, mate, but you’re not my type!”

Casey scoffs. “You could only wish I had such intentions,” he says crossly, even as he wraps his arms around Billy and hauls him closer.

It says something that Billy doesn’t actively pull away, and with their bodies pressed together, it’s clear Billy’s more than a little cold. The shaking is pronounced, and the younger man is well on his way to hypothermia.

“You just felt like a hug?” Billy muses, his head pressed against Casey’s shoulder.

Casey grunts, shifting them both to a more comfortable position against the wall. “I felt like not letting you freeze to death,” he mutters.

“By hugging?” Billy asks.

“By sharing body heat,” Casey snaps.

“If that’s what you have to tell yourself--”

“Shut up,” Casey orders. “Or I’ll leave your sorry, shaking ass outside in the cold and save all my precious body heat for myself.”

“This still sounds vaguely dirty--”

“Shut _up!_ ”

This time, Billy obeys, and in the blessed moment of silence, Casey can feel Billy’s breathing grow steadier, the tremors easing slightly as the Scot seems to pull in closer. After a long moment, Billy says, “You’re shaking, too.”

“That’s because I’m hugging a popsicle,” Casey counters.

“I wish I had a camera--”

“And then hypothermia would be the least of your concerns,” Casey cuts him off firmly.

There’s another silence, this time more amiable. Outside, the wind howls and the snow falls. There’s no telling what tomorrow will bring, no promise they’ll last the night. But whatever fate befalls one of them, will befall them both.

This is a risk; this is a solace.

This is the only option.

“So this is the plan, then?” Billy asks. “Hug all night?”

“It’s better than freezing,” Casey points out.

“No arguments here,” Billy says, nestling just a little closer. “Definitely no arguments.”

Casey doesn’t reply this time, and he feels Billy shudder as a gust of wind slips through the walls. Instinctively, Casey pulls Billy closer, holding him tighter against the storm.

And if he’s warmer, too, then that’s one small detail no one needs to know.


End file.
